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NEGRO FOLK RHYMES
He laid up dar lak a bag o' meal,
An' he spur him in de flank wid his toenail heel.
Ole Tom Wilson, he come an' he go,
Frum cabin to cabin in de county-o.
Wen he go to bed, his legs hang do'n,
An' his foots makes poles fer de chickens t' roost on.
Tom went down to de river, an' he couldn' go 'cross. Tom tromp on a 'gater an' 'e think 'e wus a hoss. Wid a mouf wide open, 'gater jump from de san', An' dat Nigger look clean down to de Promus' Lan'.
Wa'k Tom Wilson, git out'n de way! Wa'k Tom Wilson, don't wait all de day! Wa'k Tom Wilson, here afternoon; Sweep dat kitchen wid a bran' new broom.
If you wants to make an ole Nigger feel good,
Let me tell you w'at to do:
Jes take off a chicken from dat chicken roost,
An' take 'im along wid you.
Take a liddle dough to roll 'im up in,
An' it'll make you wink yo' eye;
W'en dat good smell gits up yo' nose,
Frum dat home-made chicken pie.